


A Chance Meeting

by madeof_it



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeof_it/pseuds/madeof_it
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver bumps into a stranger at a post-game bar-hop</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Meeting

The door to The Quaffle slammed opened and a herd of cheering Quidditch players came through. In the lead was Oliver Wood, his swagger belying his pride at his team's victory.

"Hannah!" he yelled, "We'll need a shot of Firewhiskey for everyone in here! Bill it to Puddlemere United!"

Hannah Abbott rolled her eyes from behind the heavy counter but complied, neatly spelling out a round of drinks for the occupants of the bar. Fortunately, it had been a quiet night until the thundering of Puddlemere United's players trekked into the bar, so she only had to worry about the Quidditch team and their guests.

She directed some music to begin playing, and the heavy sound in the dim of the room caused a roar of cheers to rise from the celebrants. Soon enough, people were dancing and swaying to the music, snippets of shouted conversations heard in the uproar.

Oliver was proud. His players had followed his instructions exactly, and they'd managed their third win of the season. Puddlemere's rankings had risen exponentially since he'd taken over as Coach, and he knew that the team's owners would consider this success more reason to reward him with at least a handful of bonus galleons.

Not that he was a greedy man, but Oliver had known a life of needing things and enjoyed not having to worry about finances anymore. With the way Puddlemere was playing, he was even able to take care of his mum a bit, something he took great pride in.

Grinning, he made his way around the room, clapping his star players on the back and congratulating them all on a job well done. He shook hands with friends and spouses and even signed a few autographs. It felt bizarre, to be well-known and famous simply for being a part of something he loved. He'd grown up playing Quidditch in his backyard with his father, a pastime the two of them enjoyed together for most of Oliver's life.

Losing himself in the haze of his thoughts, he bumped into someone, sloshing his Firewhiskey all down his front.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you and what a mess, Hannah's going to kill me that's the third time tonight --" the woman trailed off, blushing as she realized she'd been scrubbing away at The Oliver Wood's navy blue Puddlemere robes.

Stammering, she backed up a little, but he grasped her arm lightly, taking care not to startle her anymore than she seemed already.

"It's fine, really!" he insisted. With a flick of his wand and a quick Evanesco, the fabric was dry and clean.

"It's magic", he winked at her.

She laughed softly, mouth still slightly agape at his attentions on her. Oliver didn't know who she was, but he wanted to know her. He felt this odd connection to her, and a strange urge to pull his fingers through her curly brown hair, to swipe his thumb across her bottom lip in the hopes of seeing her smile again.

"I'm Oliver," he said with an outstretched hand. "And I'd like to buy you a drink."

She placed her soft palm against his.

"I'm Amanda, and I'm currently working so that's probably not the best idea -- if you wanted to take me for ice cream tomorrow, I'd consider it to be a fine idea."

He nodded and they were silent for a moment, until Hannah's call for Amanda from across the room broke the spell between them. She turned away, her thick hair flicking over her shoulder, but peered back and smiled at him before moving away.

Finding himself suddenly speechless and stuck to the floor, Oliver wondered if he'd be able to take her out for more than just dessert.


End file.
